The Aged and the Age of Digital Devices

Apparently one of the cardinal rules of this blogging thing is to keep your content fresh and varied. Seems readers desire a respite from acres of text, and exhibit a veritable yearning for interesting links and visual ticklers such as inspirational photos, brilliant graphics and captivating videos.

This is indeed unfortunate. I mean I can probably cop some forgiveness if I'm shy on the graphics and videos... not everybody is a brilliant graphic designer or captivating videographer. But photos? Everybody  can take a photo!!!

Here's the deal at my house, however. The man known simply as Geoff takes the photos. I know it sounds lame and almost... well... anthropologically irresponsible, but I just don't do photos. As a consequence, we have volumes and volumes of digital photos in which the man known simply as Geoff does not appear. (OK - that's a lie - there are a few photos of him, but they're all self-portraits - head angled, double chin, just a hint of the shoulder showing? - you know the ones).

Perhaps you are pondering this phenomenon (or perhaps  you are just thinking 'Merciful Heavens, how I wish there were an interesting link on this tortuous piece of work so that I may hyperlink my way out of blog hell...) - why, in this day and age of ridiculously simple cameras, does this woman not take pictures?

Reading glasses. That is the simple and most relevant answer. Digital cameras (and cell phones and iPods and GPSs and all manner of electronic gadgets) were invented just about the time I began to investigate arm extensions. In fact, I believe that these devices (read oozing disdain here) were a deliberate attempt by malicious youthful techies to frustrate and humiliate middle-aged accountants. What possible hope does one have of mastering the functions of a camera or telephone when the screen is the size of a postage stamp and the text so teeny it makes ant footprints look like volcanic craters?? And have you ever considered the odds of capturing a fleeting glimpse of a departing moose on camera while you search for your glasses in your backpack??

I know, I know - it's possible that I am a tad over-reactive on this one. However, having enjoyed perfect vision for my entire life, it is rather unsettling to realize that no matter how hard I squint or how far I crane my neck back, I won't be able to figure out whether I am about to swallow an ibuprofen or the dog's worm medication. Numbers, the life blood of any accountant - assuming, for a moment, that accountants actually have 'life blood' - betray me (the difference between $8 million and $3 million is, for the record, deemed to be material by your average auditor).

And so, it is with grumbling resignation that I accept my dependence on reading glasses and abdicate any photojournalistic responsibilities to my better half. Given that the man simply known as Geoff is a pretty decent photographer, that's not an entirely bad thing. It does bode badly for this blog, however. Ah well. As I am quick to tell my boss on an almost-daily basis, you're just going to have to lower your standards.